Armor
by theoverlyenthusiasticwriter
Summary: Post Acofas, Cassian finds out what Nesta does while he's away. Her rebellion, however, isn't as it seems. Together, they play into each other's traps of romance and forgiveness.
1. Chapter 1

Nesta swept the dirty sheets off the bed, keeping an eye on the dressing male as she did. Throwing them in a bucket of water for the laundress, she grabbed her perfume, spraying it in specific spots to hide the male's scent. It was all routine, the movements easy and practiced. This male had been worse than most, young, cocky, and likely looking for some sort of recognition-even from her.

When he was still there even after she replaced the old sheet, she straightened, glaring at him. "Are you not satisfied?"

Cassian would be back in a few hours, enough for the perfume to fade to smell naturally like her. He wouldn't suspect a thing-he never did.

The male gave a snort, running an eye over her robed form. Sometimes, the males she slept with expected a relationship from her, or for her not to kick them out the next morning.

"Get out," Nesta said, "or did you forget where the door was?"

The Illyrian frowned turning away to the door. Nesta went to the bathing room, waiting to turn on the shower until after she heard him leave.

That was exactly why she heard the exchange outside.

"Who the hell are you?"

Nesta's eyes widened at that gruff voice.

"Hello, general. Have fun in there, at least her smart mouth's good for-"

There was a slam, then a choking sound.

Then, almost too quietly for her to hear, "If I hear your voice again, I'll rip your tongue out of your throat feed it to the pigs. Get out of my sight before I decide not to do it now."

Thundering steps away from the small house.

Nesta's heart pounded as she heard the door open again, then slam.

"How many?" Cassian said, voice like fire, as he barged into her room. "How many have you slept with?"

"You're back early," Nesta mused instead, wrapping her dressing robe tighter around herself.

He strode forward until they were nearly nose to nose, face nearly animalistic. "How many, Nesta?"

She crossed her arms. "That's none of your business."

"I told you-I warned you-that the Illyrians weren't like other fae. It's so damn stupid of you to bed any of them. Do you not understand what they'll do to each other if they find out?"

"What do you care?"

"What do I care? What do I care!" He grabbed her hand, twisting it so her wrist the pale underside was exposed. "Do you see this?" He pointed to the bruises in the shape of fingerprints. "This is what they do to you and yet you keep looking for more. One of these days they're going to take without asking."

She tried to yank her arm away but he kept a steel hold. "My love life is none of your business."

"Love life? There is no love in what you do." He dropped her hand, turning away. "If I find out you take another one of them to bed, so help me Mother… ."

"You'll what?" Nesta snapped. "Kill them? That doesn't sound like a plan. Take me from the camps? Go ahead, I hate this place anyway."

He marched to the door, shoulders tense. "I don't know what I'll do, but you won't enjoy it."

"All the more reason to hate you." The words were a bitter blade, and if they struck, she couldn't tell.

"Don't sleep with anyone else," he ordered with all the voice of the General of the Night Court, and slammed the door.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Nesta did sleep with someone else. This one looked younger than her and almost totally inexperienced. When they finished, however, Nesta didn't kick him out. She purposefully didn't do anything to hide him as she waited, only a sheet draped over her naked body.

The male was stuttering something about how pretty her eyes were when the door swung open and hit the wall with a bang. Cassian's vicious growl sent the male clambering out of bed, lunging for his discarded trousers.

"I-I'm sorry. I was un-"

"Get out." The words were quiet, threatening, but Nesta could feel Cassian's gaze on her alone as she turned slowly toward him in bed.

The male stumbled from the house.

"Bathe yourself," Cassian snarled. When Nesta didn't move, he took a step towards her. "Unless you want me to do it."

She snorted but indeed made her way to the bathing room for a hot shower. She hadn't showered this morning so it was about time.

She let the sheet drop as she walked, uncaring of Cassian. He'd already seen her naked anyway.

She redressed in her favorite brown leggings and a winter sweater, unsure what Cassian was going to do. He wouldn't kick her out-she knew. He'd likely force her to train or make her watch two of the males she'd slept with inevitably fight, believing it would make her realize the outcome of her actions.

But when she emerged, he wasn't at the front door, donning his winter wear or in his leathers. In fact, he wasn't in the living room at all.

Nesta didn't go looking for him. She plopped on the couch in the spot that she had deined most comfortable. She pulled out her current book from where it was stashed under the pillows, flipping to her page.

Before she could dive in, however, she heard a door open. "Nesta," Cassian said from the hall to his room. She didn't look up as he stalked over, clad in only his trousers.

She saw him reaching for her book and slammed in shut, slapping his hand away before he could touch the precious cover. But he grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet. She held onto the book with dear life.

"You will tell me what you want," Cassian hissed into the space between them, minimal as it was, "and we will do it. Right now."

"What?" she snapped, prying her wrist from his grip and tossing her book safely onto the couch.

"What do you want? Whatever those males give it to you, I will if you need it. So long as it guarantees you never go to another one besides me again."

Seeing the intensity of his gaze and hearing those words from his mouth, she put all the hate in her life behind her glare. She spat, "I would never go to you for sex."

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart." He said it with his usual arrogance but there was no smirk on his face. "I've told the camp lords about you. This behavior could pass in Velaris, but should those males figure out that they aren't special, or aren't the only one who got lucky off you, they will hurt each other. They will hurt you. So it's me or no one."

Her eyes widened. "You can't do that!"

"I had no choice. Feyre wanted you to stop, I wanted you to stop. But if it is sex that pleases you, I will do it. You're causing too much damage." There was a disgusting kind of sadness or pity that crossed his face as he went on quieter, "I've been in your position before, Nesta. After Rhys's mother and sister died, I fell into alcohol and females. It was only when one of those females' mate attacked me that I finally snapped out of it. This is not a healthy way to grieve. It will leave you more numb and hollow than what you lost did."

Nesta took a step back, turning her face away. "You know nothing."

"I'm not an idiot, Nes." He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "But right now I am your only alternative."

"Fine," she made herself say. She could pretend it wasn't him. Maybe a stranger or one of the more attractive Illyrians. "Fine."

Cassian let her go and the lack of his touch was so sudden that she fell back onto the couch.

"But," Cassian said, towering over her, "you have to train with me."

"No."

"Just today. I'll let you decide if you want to train again and if you say no after I won't bug you."

She stared hard at the cover of her book. "Fine."

"Your leathers are in the closet. Get dressed."

She stomped off to her room, mumbling to herself. He better be one damned good fuck. She hadn't even known there were leathers made for her, though, to be fair, she hadn't asked. How they got her measurements was another thing she didn't want to know.

The leathers were slightly too large around the hips and too small around the breasts but they fit. Nesta suspected that they might have been Feyre's before she'd gotten herself pregnant.

Nesta slid into them, trying to hide her disgust. She had barely buttoned up her jacket before there was a knock.

"What?" she snapped and Cassian strolled in. At least he had a shirt and jacket on now.

He curled his fingers in a come here motion but Nesta stayed rooted to the spot. He growled and marched over, producing a leather tie.

"I can do my hair on my-" But he was already behind her, pulling it into a ponytail. Nesta hissed at him, trying to swat his hands away.

"Let's go," he said when he finished, voice rough.

Nesta kept snarling as she followed him out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

It was cold. Ridiculously so. After the sun disappeared behind the mountain, Nesta lost feeling in her toes. Each breath felt like she was taking in shards of ice and each movement was like lightning through her bones.

She'd be lying is she said she didn't enjoy it.

The exercise and bruises did something to her-something she couldn't name. It liberated her, rebirthed her. She could throw herself into movement and forget her own thoughts.

Cassian left half-way through, leaving her to a cautious looking Illyrian who was half a foot shorter than her.

When Nesta trudged back to the house, she was sure too many steps and her feet would fall completely off.

The smell of cooked fish hit her first, making her hold back her groan as she stripped of her jacket and made a beeline for the kitchen. Cassian was sitting at the table, fork pausing on its way to his mouth. He grinned insufferably. "Enjoy yourself?"

"Food," Nesta breathed, going to where she saw an extra plate made, piled in fish and vegetables. She dove right in, not even bothering to move to the table.

"We need to discuss a few things," he said from behind her.

"Like what?" Nesta asked around a forkful of roasted potatoes, turning slightly.

"Like what's going to happen tonight. I need to know what you want-and what you won't accept."

Her brows pinched. None of the other males had bothered to ask her such things.

Cassian went on, setting his fork down. "These things can be reevaluated later, if we both agree. But we need to set rules for tonight. Want you and I want and don't want."

She leaned back against the counter, balancing her plate in one hand. She didn't know if she had the energy to do that tonight after the training. Maybe Cassian did that on purpose. The thought was unsettling.

When she didn't say anything, Cassian awkwardly tapped his fork against his plate. "Okay, I'll start. No butt stuff-I don't want anything up there and I don't think you do either."

She fought to keep a straight face. She wracked through her memory, searching for things men had tried to do that made her throw them off. "No slapping. Anywhere."

He nodded. "I agree. No touching my wings."

"No mouth kisses."

His eyes snapped to hers. "What? Why?"

She couldn't think of a reason. "I don't want them."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?" she hissed, putting down her now empty plate with a menacing click.

Cassian cocked his head, a grin gracing his face. "Yes. Why don't you want me to kiss you, Nesta?"

"I just don't." That would make it real. More impossibly intimate.

Cassian ran his tongue over his teeth. "Kissing is a very important part of sex."

Nesta's lip curled. "It doesn't have to be."

"I'm afraid I can't agree to that, sweetheart."

"I don't want to kiss you. Is that not good enough?"

"No, I think you're lying. I can smell it."

"Does it matter? I said I didn't want to so we won't."

He rose from his chair and Nesta was reminded how much taller he was than her. "Give me a legitimate reason why."

"Because I don't want to."

"Why don't you want to? You kiss your other males." He came around the counter, coming closer with each step.

"It doesn't matter."

"Then let me kiss you."

"No!"

"Why, Nesta?" He remained so calm it angered her.

Because it makes me more vulnerable to your advances. Because one touch of your mouth on mine and I may not be able to control myself. Because I already feel like enough of an asshat.

She stared hard at the wall. "I don't want you to kiss me."

From the corner of her eye, she saw his grin widen. "Afraid you'll like it too much?"

She drew back her hand but he grabbed it before her palm could smack his face.

"Ah, ah. No slapping."

"We haven't started yet-rules don't apply. Though it seems you already have something up your ass that needs to be removed."

He arched a brow. "Rules don't apply? Well, then."

Before she could draw breath, his lips were on hers, her wide eyes staring at his shut ones. Fireworks seemed to explode around her, making that boom in her heart.

He pulled back just barely and murmured, "Close your eyes."

Her eyes fluttered shut involuntarily.

He kissed her again, this time deeper, his tongue teasing her lips till she opened them. She felt his hands come around her, winding around her waist. His tongue was in her mouth, his arms were bundling her to his chest, his wings were caging her to the counter.

She wrenched her lips away, glaring at him. "If you get to kiss me, I get to touch your wings." She reached for the closest one but he batted her hand out of the air.

"That's different."

"No it's not." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why would it be?"

He snarled, tucking his wings back behind him. "Fine. But I want to eat first."

"We just ate."

He smirked. "Desert, sweetheart. I want to keep your energy up."

She pushed him away, as far as her arms would let her. "I'm not hungry."

"No sex unless you eat."

"I don't even want to have sex with you. You're just the only thing left."

His smile fell. "Wine, then."

Her ears perked. "Where."

"In the back of the cupboard to the left of the stove. There's a hidden compartment." He moved to retake his seat.

She had searched the cupboards over and over again, had nearly turned the house upside-down, and it was in a gods damned hidden compartment.

She went to the cupboard, sheathing her anger as she moved aside a few pots to get to the back. Running her fingers blindly over the paneling, she found a small handle for her too slide the small door open.

Finally retrieving the wine, she set it on the counter with a clank. Uncorking it with her teeth, she made to take a long pull but Cassian-damn him-interrupted.

"Aren't you going to pour me a glass?"

She snarled, "I don't have to do a damn thing for you."

She made to lift it to her lips but he interjected again, "It's only common courtesy."

She just about bit his head off before deciding, just to get him to shut the hell up, she would pour them both a glass.

Finding the flutes in another cupboard, she filled one to the brim and the other to a reasonable amount and handed the latter to him. He watched her like a mountain cat over the brim of his glass as he took a sip.

She, somehow, finished hers first, and tapped her foot impatiently while he took his sweet time with his.

"Hurry up or I'm going to drink the rest of your bottle." Being drunk for this was probably the best idea she'd had all day.

"I'm savoring it."

It wasn't even that good-nothing compared to Rhysand's wine, which she had raided rather delightfully. Though she supposed it was all they had up here in the mountains. "Why? You have plenty."

He said nothing, but grinned again.

She wanted to break her wine glass across his head and stab him with the jagged edges.

Finally-finally-he finished, setting down the flute with an exaggerated ahh.

But when he stood again from his chair, all humor fell away. He walked slowly towards her until they stood barely a handbreadth away.

He reached up to brush her hair out of her face but she grabbed his wrist and said quieter than she intended, "Just fuck me already."

He gave a smile that was softer than the others she'd seen. "Oh, no. I don't plan on fucking you. I am going to make love to you until you are moaning my name, begging me. You'll never want another male again."

"Someone thinks mighty highly of himself. And I am never begging for anything in my life."

"We'll see," he purred.

"Your bedroom or mine?" Nesta said instead of responding to that, edging around him.

"Neither."

"Where then? We're not doing this in the kitchen."

He pointed to the living room, where a fire roared into existence in the hearth. "I don't want to smell your males and I don't think you'd like my bedroom."

"Why not?"

He only shook his head, pointing again to the living room.

Nesta made her way over, finding a pile of furs and blankets neatly arranged before the fire. She took off her jacket and made for the buttons of her shirt but a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her towards him.

"If you want me to stop at all, just say so. No hesitation, no questions asked."

Nesta stared up at him and took a deep breath before she said, "Thank you."

Shock filled his eyes but his face remained the same as he leaned down and kissed her. Softly. Slowly.

It was too much. He kissed her like a lover. Like a partner. She grabbed his hair, yanking him closer, wanting him to take wilder, to show his teeth. And thankfully, he did.

He picked her up by the waist, guiding her legs around his hips. She nipped at his bottom lip, waiting for him to shove her against the wall or a table like the other males did.

But he laid her down gently on the nest of bedding, hands running over her abdomen. She shifted, breaking their kiss to grab his wrist, moving his hand to the buttons of her shirt. He undid them slowly, taking his time to slide the shirt from her shoulders. He kissed her collarbone, running his calloused palms over her bare ribs.

She squirmed. "Not-" She had to cut herself off with a gasp when he moved his fingers slightly.

He pulled back, gaping at her. "My god, Nesta Archeron, are you ticklish?"

"Don't you-" She gasped again, arching as he lightly ran his fingertips over her sides. She glared at him. "Cassian, I swear to-"

He took full advantage of this new discovery, caressing and stroking her until holding her breath didn't work anymore.

Nesta Archeron burst into laughter.

She struggled and kicked against him, barely able to draw breath as he pinned her with one hand and tickled her with the other. Mercilessly.

He brought his mouth to her belly button and squeezed a part of her thigh and she squealed.

Squealed.

He was grinning triumphantly when he deigned to stop as Nesta caught her breath. "I love those sounds from you. I'll have to remember that for when either of us is in a bad mood."

She shook her head but he was kissing her again and she couldn't help but feel a little… lighter. She kissed him back as she began working his shirt open. This kind of loving was new to her-slow, close, savory. He kissed her like she was the finest wine he'd ever tasted.

"Why don't you want me touching your wings?" she found herself asking when they broke for air.

As if in response, his wings tucked closer to his body. He looked away. "They're… sensitive."

"So it will hurt if I touch them?"

"Didn't Feyre tell you anything?" When she didn't respond, he sighed. "Not that kind of sensitive."

"I don't understand."

He bowed his head, his hair spilling over her collarbone. "You can make an unprepared Illyrian come from stroking his wing in the right spot."

"Oh." She smiled at the blush on his cheeks. Making him uncomfortable could be a sport. "So if I… ." She reached around, running her hand along the edge of his wing.

It snapped out instantly, arching high in the air. "Please, Nesta. Please don't."

She met his eyes for a heated moment then slowly withdrew her hand. He kissed her wrist in thanks. He traced the insides of her thighs, pressing a kiss to her neck. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, allowing herself to take in the powerful body above her. The hard planes of his chest. The tightly rolled abs. Each bicep and forearms crafted with a god's beauty.

Cassian slid down her body, his trail of kisses leading right between her breasts and down to her navel. He unbuttoned her pants, gently tugging them off. Then he sat back, running an eye over her nearly bare form. "I see you dressed up for me."

Indeed. Under her leathers, she had worn a black lace bra that her breasts nearly spilled out of. Her thong was deep red though, the scraps of lace depicting roses. It was only now that she realized it matched his siphons.

"Don't flatter yourself. I like wearing these-they're comfortable."

He snorted at her lie.

"They look beautiful on you nonetheless," he mused.

"Skip the foreplay, Cassian. Hurry up."

"I think not. I'm going to take my time on you."

She growled.

"I'll tickle you again if you don't stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Frowning, growling, snarling."

"Then stop being such an ass and hurry up."

He grinned and leaned back down, this time to her breasts. With a flick of his teeth, he undid the clasp in front. "You have no idea how much I like these," he murmured, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing slightly. "You have no idea how much I've thought of them. Of you."

"I don't want a romance," Nesta whispered as he took one of her nipples in his mouth.

"That won't stop me from thinking of it. From wishing it was true." His voice grumbled against her breast, stubble scraping the soft skin.

Nesta pulled his face back up to hers. She didn't know how someone could be so open to their desires. She didn't know how someone-much less him-could want her so fiercely.

"Cassian, I need to tell you-"

The door flew open.

Nesta didn't know what she expected, but Azriel was not it. He stormed in from the rain, thunder booming in his wake.

Nesta quickly covered herself with a blanket, looking at him blankly. But Cassian was snarling. "Get the hell out of here."

"Get some common sense," Azriel snapped back, throwing his coat on a chair. "I know what you were about to do."

"Why the hell do you care?"

"Because-" Azriel cut himself off, a shadow curling around his ear. His eyes snapped to Nesta, then back to Cassian. "You don't know."

"Don't know what, you ass?" Cassian pushed away from Nesta, crossing his arms over his chest. Nesta tried to keep her face blank, bored.

Azriel, for the first time since she'd known him, looked both scared and exasperated. "I-" He cut himself off again, this time to curse aloud. "You can't do that."

Cassian raised a brow but there was no humor in his voice as he asked, "Do what?"

"That." Azriel pointed at Nesta, nearly naked beneath the sheets. She growled low. Az grabbed Cassian's arm. "We need to talk."

Cassian looked like he was ready to protest more but a dark wind filled the room.

Cassian's shout was still ringing in Nesta's ears.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"What the hell, Az?" Cassian roared as the House of Wind mistified around them.

Azriel quickly backed away. Which, to Cassian, was the smartest thing he'd done so far. Cassian wanted to break something. Someone. And he wanted it bad.

And Nesta…. He had confessed things that should have never been confessed. But the sight of her body, laid out before him like his own personal feast…. He wanted to do so many things to her and his brother might have just taken his only chance.

"This better be good," Cassian snarled viciously, "because if it's not, I swear to the Mother, I will crumble this mountain to dust."

Azriel took another step back and the entire Inner Circle emerged from the shadows, winnowing in at whatever silent command he gave them.

"What is this?" Cassian asked, eyes wide.

"Cassian-" Feyre said, reaching for him, her stomach plump with child.

Amren cut her off, "You're an idiot, boy, for trying to take her to bed."

He advanced on her, glad to have an opponent. "It was consensual. She agreed, we discussed it. There's nothing wrong with-"

"She is your mate," Rhysand said quietly.

Cassian froze, shoulders stiffening. He didn't turn, only said quietly, "That's impossible." He wouldn't let himself believe it. Not for a moment.

He felt Mor-Mor-come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Think about it, Cassian."

He did and crashed to his knees.

Because I can't stay away.

He was so stupid. So so stupid. It must have appeared on that battlefield, when he'd been too overcome by pain to notice. And everything… every touch, every word, every thought… they only proved it more.

"Does she know?" he asked very quietly.

"Probably." He wasn't sure who answered.

He turned slowly, staying on his knees. "Does she know?" he asked again, this time to Elain. If Nesta were to tell anyone, it would be her.

Elain swallowed hard as she nodded.

No one seemed surprised.

"She-she offered me food-wine." Cassian ran his hands through his hair. "I took it and then tried to take her to bed. Shit-shit!"

"She probably doesn't know about the food tradition." Rhys stepped forward, face soft.

"So? It still means she accepted the bond. And the sex-oh the sex! She's going to think I'm a monster. Everything is ruined." He buried his face in his hands, cursing over and over again to keep himself from crying.

"Most people would be happy to find their mates," Mor murmured, but the humor was lost.

Cassian stood, flaring his wings. "Take me back to her."

"Cassian, I don't think that's the best-" Feyre started.

"Take me back to her!" he roared.

The entire Inner Circle exchanged a look that he was not included in. Finally, Az stepped forward and winnowed them into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**I have no self control.**

 **Sincerely, Author**

Nesta waited, sprawled across the blankets, book in hand. She didn't bother to put her clothes back on as she anticipated his return.

When Azriel winnowed him in, however, he didn't immediately go to ravish her. Cassian grabbed his shirt as he stalked over, not even glancing at his brother's disappearing form, and hauled her to her feet.

"What is it?" she asked innocently, putting her hands on hi chest.

He growled and pushed her off, guiding her arms through the sleeves like she was a child.

"I can-" But he was already buttoning it up, much to her confusion. "Cassian-"

"Just… Be quiet please." He paused for a moment, face pained grievously. Then, with no preamble, he flipped her over his shoulder.

She shrieked, nearly getting a mouthful of wing.

He hooked his arm around her knees and bounded up the stairs. Nesta tried to move his damn wing but it was stronger than it looked, holding her upper half in place. She had never been in the upstairs of the house, deeming that his territory and thus drawing a line at the base of the steps.

But then they were in his room and she was being set on the bed. She watched with wide eyes as he locked the door and slid the key under it, keeping them both inside.

"What the hell?" she shouted, leaping off the bed. It was only then that she took in the room. Shelves along the walls were overflowing with titles and paintings and maps hung in any empty spaces. But one wall was barely that-just a giant window, stretching from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. It looked over the Illyrian camp, so transparent it was as if it wasn't there.

"It's glamoured to look like it's not there from the outside." His lips were a tight line, a mockery of the grin that graced them so often.

Something was very, very wrong.

He prowled closer until he was a handbreadth away. "We're you planning on telling me I'm your mate before or after I bedded you and accepted the bond?"

She didn't let her chin waver a inch. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He took another step forward and she took a step back. "When did you find out, Nesta?"

She tried not to tremble, looking him square in the face. "I'm no idiot-I always have. Since I first met you."

"You were human."

"But not stupid." She crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side. "I've had dreams my entire life-small flashes, as if bits of memory."

She heard him suck in a sharp breath. She knew that Rhysand had experienced the same thing with Feyre.

Knew and didn't care.

"What did you see?" Cassian asked carefully, some of the stiffening malice seeping from his shoulders.

"What does it matter?" she snapped. Blades, armies. Mud and tents. Glowing red Siphons and blood. So much blood and pain. She had woken up in a cold sweat so many times, checking to be sure her sisters beside her weren't harmed by this invisible threat. Other nights she would wake with his laughter ringing in her ears, seeing his blades flash like the ribbons of a dancer. Beautiful. Untamed. Impossible.

Is it some faerie magic of yours, to do such things?

Cassian brought a hand up to cup her face but she turned away. "Is it so bad," she asked, "to want you to accept the bond? To wait while you made eyes at Mor for you to finally notice me? I thought I could have this-have you." Tears welled but she wouldn't let them fall. He had walked right into her trap then right back out without some much as a glance at the workings. She thought he was stupid for it, but maybe he was brave. Maybe it was her that was stupid for trying to trick him like this.

"You think I didn't notice you? You think I haven't spent nights lying awake wondering if you would take me? Wondering if we were compatible or if we'd just tear each other apart." He grabbed her hand before she could pull away, pressing the pad of his thumb to her palm. "Do you know how much I wanted you to be my mate if only to give excuse for all these treacherous thoughts?"

She gaped up at him. "Cassian-"

"But you-you tried to take my freedom with this bond. I thought I was being clever but apparently I was just being played. I'm tempted, now, to reject you as my mate."

Her heartbeat was a hummingbird's wings in her throat. She couldn't breathe. "P-please."

He smirked but it didn't reach his eyes. "I told you I'd have you begging." He turned her hand in his, bringing her wrist to his lips. She thought her heart would explode out of her chest. "I've always envied Feyre and Rhys, you know." He kissed each of her fingertips. "They're perfect for each pulled each other out of the dark.

"You are the dark, Nesta Archeron. I've seen what stirs behind your eyes. This entire time I thought you were broken and here you are, trying to build an empire out of my affection."

He leaned forward so their lips touched-just barely. "I love you, Nesta Archeron, whether or not you are my mate." He pulled away and she saw reminded that he was the General of the Night Court for a reason. He was known for his brutality, his mercilessness. "But I will not have you with this armor."


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** This chapter contains mature content that may not be suitable for some readers. Scroll at your own risk.

It was pathetic, she knew.

The days that followed were brutal, with him completely ignoring her. She even went to training but he wouldn't look at her. Wouldn't look at her when she stripped right in the kitchen. When she sat on his lap, kissed his neck and he only lifted her off and walked away. She pushed food that she'd made onto his plate, knocked on his door in the middle of the night, prepared him baths and cleaned the kitchen.

He ignored everything.

She felt like she didn't exist.

It was too much.

On the fourth day, he came home early and she scrambled out of his bed, naked from the waist down. She ran to the bathing room, cursing herself silently. Her smell was likely all over the sheets and her plan to wash them later was down the drain.

She wet a cloth, quickly cleaning herself, then scrambled around the bathing room for pants. There were, of course, none. Cassian kept his laundry in the closet which would require her to go back into the room to get to.

She was about to make a sprint for it when she heard the dump of weapons and gear on the floor. Cursing quietly, she wrapped a towel around her waist, ducking into the bathtub.

She heard the closet door open a moment before she noticed the painting hanging on the wall above the tub.

It was undoubtedly one of Feyre's paintings, depicting a dancing girl dressed in a flowing white gown. Her hair was golden brown, fanned about her, her eyes closed, face breathtaking. Beneath her bare feet was a battlefield, fresh with fallen warriors.

Nesta shivering involuntary.

There was a loud sniff, followed by, "What the hell?" It was the first time she'd heard his voice in days.

Nesta ducked further into the tub.

Cassian flung open the door, stalking into the room. Nesta barely saw the flash of a knife and a bare chest before he hauled her, flailing, out of the tub.

He dumped her on the counter, his snarling face inches from her. "What do you think you're doing in here?"

She could have cried. He was talking to her. He was looking at her.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

"For trying to force me into a mating bond or masturbating on my goddamned bed?" he shouted.

She didn't want to tell him that it wasn't the first time she'd done it in these passed days.

"You left me alone," she hissed. "I am your mate and you just left me."

"The only reason you want me if for the bond!"

"So? Everybody wants a mate."

"So? So!" His face was livid, pure animal, pure predator.

Nesta pushed off the counter sliding passed him. "Don't act like you've never thought of it-I know you have. You want a mate-you just don't me."

"Don't want you?" he growled. "You think I don't want you? You think the past few days haven't been the hardest of my life?"

She whirled back to him. "No! I don't! All of that was voluntary. If you really wanted me, you would try to… try to punish me like that!"

"I wasn't trying to punish you!" he roared. "I was trying to wrap my fucking head around the fact that you're my mate and you can just pretend that I wouldn't accept the bond if you had just told me!"

The only noise that followed his words were th sound of their breaths. She breathed in. He breathed out.

"Get on the bed," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to finish what you started. Get on the bed."

"What? No!"

"You had a dozen other places you could have done that on in this house, but you chose my bed. Why?"

"I'm not answering that." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking stubbornly away.

"Why, Nesta?"

"Because I missed you and it smelled like you," she shrieked, bring her hands up to cover her burning face. "Is that good enough? Are you satisfied with that answer?"

He stepped forward, sliding his hands up her arms. "You want me to be your mate. For more than just the sex and the bond, I know."

She brushed away his touch. "You'll accept it, though? The bond?"

"Of course I will. There's nothing… I have waited five hundred years, Nesta, for someone like you. Please. Let me-let me watch you love yourself."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I've never had an audience."

His eyes flickered. "Don't worry for one minute about my being here."

She opened her eyes, meeting his, and nodded. She moved into the bedroom, stripping of her shirt and bra. Then, her back to him, she let the towel around her waist drop.

She glanced over her shoulder, finding Cassian trembling slightly.

Turning, Nesta lay on her back on the bed and spread her legs. She dipped her hand between them, swirling her fingers through her folds. Pleasure spiked up her spine and she let herself fall into a rhythm.

She was dimly aware of Cassian dropping his pants, stepping to the edge of the bed.

Her mate.

She felt a coil in her stomach growing tighter with each pass of her fingers, each dip of them inside her heat.

Cassian pulled his length from his pants, stroking it in time with her movements.

It was almost too much.

Nesta closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pillow.

She gasped as she came, eyes flying open.

When she was done, she pushed herself to her elbows, slowly closing her legs.

Cassian's cock was still hard, his eyes heavy lidded. "That was quick." His voice was gruff.

She didn't respond.

He braced his hands on the bed, leaning forward. "Is that the best you've ever done? The best finish?"

"Near to it," she said and fell back, stretching.

The bed shifted under his weight as he crawled over her, dragging his eyes up her form. "I can bring you better-with only my fingers."

She raised a brow, recalling a time when she'd told him she'd sooner sully herself with her own hand than sleep with a boy of her village. "I'm not so sure."

His calloused palm slid over her hip. "You'll let me try?"

She opened her legs again in answer.

He slid his hand down, mimicking her earlier movement. Her clit was still sensitive and she sucked in a sharp breath at his touch. He pressed his lips to her collar bone, fingers brushing over her lightly.

She reached for his hand, hoping to get him to press hard, faster, but he secured her wrists with his free hand over her head. "No. Let me… let me do this."

He slipped a finger into her heat. She opened her mouth in a silent gasp.

He pumped slowly, his thumb swirling in time with his kisses against her neck. He curled his finger slightly.

Nesta arched, grinding her hips into his palm.

His teeth scraped her neck.

He slipped another finger inside, filling her so much that she wasn't sure she could breathe. She let out a moan. It sounded like his name. His fingers pulsed in and out, thumb rubbing that damned spot. He curled his fingers again, grating against that point of pleasure.

She cried out, hips bucking uncontrollably.

He picked up his pace, her moist heat letting his easily move his fingers. Nesta cursed. Cassian pressed his lips to hers.

She came hard, roaring his name.

He didn't stop moving though, fingers dragging out her climax until her legs shook and she was no longer able to form words.

Finally, he pulled back and licked his hand clean, eyes never leaving hers.

Her chest heaved against his. She lossed and hand and reached for his length.

He shook his head. "No, no. I don't want that from you-not now."

"What do you want?" She barely recognized her own voice. Her walls were gone, crumbled beneath his gaze.

He opened her legs wider, guiding them around his waist. "Yes?"

"Yes." She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed his lips.

They spent the day in bed, tangled in each other. There were no whispered nothings or hollow promises. Just the feeling of his body and the feeling of hers.

Nesta ran her hands through her hair, exhaustion wearing her down to the bone.

Cassian stood, reaching for his pants. He paused for a moment, hands on the buckle, bathed in the glow of the sunset. His wings were spread behind him, tattoos striking against the tanned muscle.

Nesta was thoroughly enjoying the view until he said, "I spoke with Rhys and Feyre this morning. We discussed some… things."

"Oh?" She propped her head on a hand, a sinking feeling settling in her gut. "Discussions" with the High Lord and Lady rarely ended well.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at her and his face was a mask of stone, covering any emotion she had hoped might be there. "I'm sending you back to Velaris. Alone."

She thought her heart might have stopped.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The Inner Circle came the next morning. Nesta didn't bother to hide.

She marched up to her sister, eyes like living flame. Behind her, she knew his brothers each put a hand on Cassian's shoulder. For comfort of restraint, she didn't care.

Cassian's gaze was like a sword in her back.

Nesta glanced over her shoulder only once before she grabbed Feyre's hand and they winnowed away.


End file.
